The Manchester journal. [volume] (Manchester, Vt.) 1861-current, 1887-03-03

To 20 forth from this dark, living tomb
10 give my longing eyes one qasti Of saa'
light, and thea shu, them forever Ia th'
! eternal darkness OF deaths real grayes
Am / To dieS To quiii To be no more
Talked OF dsy or week and then forgot
teus Is Il | who am to look q. those twelve
soldiers 10 silent rsuk twelve PAGES at NJ,
front9 To hear the command, Ready <
aim fret" aud hear the sudden death
message, feel deaths bullet, and know
4 death all in one brief instant and then
forever know no mores
For the life OF me could not say. "ies'
litisI" had no such feeling, and why
! cannot tell.
Iknew the law military knew II ] was
found guilty as spy, no power but that Of
the pardoning perogstive OF the Chiei Er-
ecutive could avert death
knew oil had been done by my friends
that could be done, aud without avail.
Still. l could not think that VAS to die
20 soon.
Such reflections. retrospections, self
srguings came 10 me daily, as the time
drew near appointed for my execution.
Finally ii came. Shall ever forget that
November morning in '63.
They had told me that would be taken
out Al nine o'clock in the morning, would
be allowed an officers room in the bar
racks, where my parents, sisters and broth.
ers would meet me and spend my last few
hours with me.
When taken ont they had to seat me in
the outer guardrroom quarter OF an hour
I'LL my eyes became accustomed to the
piercing glare Of sunshine.
Then then they took me the room where
| found father. mother, sisters. brothers
and minister. II was the quarters of an
officer Of the post, and very comfortably
furnished.
Just outside we could see them
through the window stood a special de-
tail Of twelve men, selected as the unwill
ing executioners OF the sentenced man.
Telling me should have until the last
minute before three o'clock, but then
would have TO co. the colonel locked the
door and left me with my friends.
They had secured the privilege of spend
ing these last few hours with me, ] knew
to comfort and console, perhaps to
strengthen me to the fearful ordeal
through which had TO pass. But had
to comfort and console them.
My father was broken down. II must
be horied strain upon fathers feelings
TO sit and look at his son, in the prime OF
manhood, and count of the few interven
ing minutes OF that boy sremaining life.
Brothers and sisters could only gaze at
me 4peechless misery, appalled, by the
Rloomy shadow OF death that was then
cas- lug abont me
/ had to become consoer, aud strain
ed every nerve. called forth every power
to smile. would not permit the irem
bling man Of God to offer prayers, know
ing his words wonld fall upon those
loving ears as death walls, Ms clods falling
on my cofii u. drew them, by every
thing could think OF. to contemplate
anything but my impending doom.
As Iwould about succeed the little clock
on the mantel would strike, or footstep
on the stair outside, or some movement o.
the garrison would recall them with a
sign to the horrid present.
The little clock on the mantel seemed
TO me in these intervals to tick loudly as
the clatter OF mill.
1t struck the halfhours as well as the
full stroke, and it seemed TO me its little
whir would buzz ana the tiny hammer
strike every five minutes. Tenl half
past Eleven! and halfl Twelvel Half!
Onel
Heavens how it ticked off the seconds.
galloping the minutes, and startled our
panied ears with those fieetipg half
hoursl
We were seated around the room, close
to each other as we could get. Father on
one side. mother on the other Of me.
band clasped by each, as the little mont
or on the mante broke the gathering
stiffness with iis metal voice CRYING the
hslf-hour gone,
Just then step sounded without, y
hand touched the knob. the key turned 10 |
the lock, the donr was thrown open and
the colonel stood looking 10 upon us
Ins,inctively jumped to my feet. as
father aud mother sprang to my side
hand each upon my shoulder.
How rapidly thought does its Office in
snch emergencies.
My first thought was, their dining hour
approaches. and these officers wish to
get through this unpleasant duty before
dinner.
For a minute 1T seemed eternity, and |
that the little clock had ceased TO tell of
time we stood. the colonel and myself I
silent, gazing sternly at each other
He evidently expected me to speak.
But did not. would not
Al length he slowly drew from bis pock
ct a slip Of paper. snd saying, Captain,
have Just received this telegram, read
while we gszed upon him IN strained, lis
tening eagerness.
The execution Of the sentence 10 the
case Of Capt. William r Gordon is post
poned until further orders. BY order OF
TnH PRESIDENT"
Not Que Of us spoke.
You can stay with your friends till I